Recovering from Evil
by GunShy1
Summary: For 20 years we wondered what Matt was thinking, This ATC is an attempt to elucidate the inner workings of the Marshal's mind beginning in the final moments of the TV episode "Mannon," Season 14, Episode 17 written by Ronald Bishop, directed by Robert Butler, original air date 20 January 1969. Some dialogue is directly quoted or paraphrased.
1. Chapter 1

For 20 years we wondered what Matt was thinking, This ATC is an attempt to elucidate the inner workings of the Marshal's mind beginning in the final moments of the TV episode "Mannon," Season 14, Episode 17 written by Ronald Bishop, directed by Robert Butler, original air date 20 January 1969. Some dialogue is directly quoted or paraphrased.

 **Recovering from Evil**

I especially thank LilyJack for her encouragement, invaluable suggestions, and editorial input. Without her assistance, this story would not exist and would definitely not be posted.

Facing Evil

Chapter 1

He rode into town, noted men silently clustered outside the Long Branch, considered if there were odds on the probability of his demise. Impossible to miss was the unnatural quiet as the soft clip clop of Buck's feet echoed eerily in the silent night. Even that stopped as he pulled on the reins.

Louie stepped out of the shadows to greet him, "You're alone, Marshal?"

"That's right, Louie."

"Oh, that ain't so good, Marshal. That ain't so very good."

"That Mannon's here, Marshal. He's something fast. Nothin's ever been that's quite like him."

"I know," Matt responded, Louie's concerns confirming Newly's warning that he'd never seen anyone faster, that Mannon could kill him certain. He accepted it; Mannon might kill him tonight, a truth that did nothing to change his chosen path. "I want you to go down to the Long Branch and tell him to meet me in the street."

A visibly distraught Louie tried to resist, "No, Marshal."

"You go on," the stalwart Marshal insisted.

"I ain't had too much, Marshal. I could get me a rifle and climb a roof…"

Matt appreciated the offer. The badge made it his job, but it was good to know there were people who cared. But, if he died tonight… it would be his way. "Louie, I thank ya, but you go on now," he softly insisted.

Louie looked up into the impassive face of the man he so respected, shook his head in defeat and shuffled down the street to carry out the Marshal's request.

Matt stabled Buck, then stepped back on Front Street, waited resolutely, arms relaxed at his side, bearing confident, heart beating wildly, badge shimmering softly in the lights of Dodge, his town. Marshal's demeanor firmly in place, he watched as men cleared the streets moving themselves and their horses a safe distance away. Then watched Mannon exit the Long Branch followed by Kitty, then Doc and an entourage of the curious, but his focus quickly locked on the love of his life. The serenity of her gaze calmed him; he felt love, confidence…pulled strength from her and wondered if she knew. Death was his constant and accepted companion, but, by God, he would miss her if he failed. Quickly both of their gazes shifted to Mannon, seemingly in accord. Mannon's attention focused oddly on Kitty, not him. That murderer and Kitty's gazes were locked, one on the other, an intense, silent conversation that excluded him, flashing between them. He swallowed - she would tell him later…if he lived.

Mannon's attention shifted back to him and he ordered, "Get out of town, Mannon."

Matt watched as Mannon's eyes again shifted to Kitty, before focusing back on him. "Comes the time I won't," the confident reply as Mannon's gaze again shifted to connect with Kitty.

"Your time's now," the required response.

Mannon shifted his focus to the Marshal again, then drew, and fired. Agonizing heat burned through the lawman's shoulder, down his chest. He fell hard in the dust, his gun still holstered. For a moment, there was nothing - no movement, no sound, no light. Was he dead? Then came the pain and Kitty's eyes now on him as he lay in the dust. He raised his head, met her gaze, saw her fear. Mannon, now seeming a gnat for her to ignore, strutted to her, counted his coup, swaggered away. But her gaze never wavered, locked on the fallen Marshal, willing him to live, to rise.

The lawman shifted his gaze to the gunslinger, garnered his strength and shouted, "Mannon!"

Mannon spun to face him as both pulled their guns. This time, Mannon fell.

So often, he wasn't the fastest, but still, he had survived and Kitty was waiting for him. He reflected, Mannon was fast and accurate, faster than him, he had seen. But Mannon had failed, failed to deliver a killing shot, and then failed to confirm his kill, a novice's mistake. He wondered why, but satisfied himself with being alive.

He struggled to sit, Doc rushing to help. The sights and sounds of Dodge returned, his senses restored, but his eyes sought only Kitty, saw her relief as he rose from the dust. Why didn't she come to him, he wondered? Instead, her gaze shifted from him, focused on Mannon, still, in the street. She moved towards the gunman. Looked over his fallen form and spoke a seeming benediction. More questions, surely she would tell him everything, later.

Alive was the word that coursed through his mind as he struggled to his feet. Against all the odds, he had survived. Then he stumbled, near fell, faintly heard Doc shouting, "You fellows there, get him up to my office."

He wanted to say, "I'm fine, I'll walk myself," but strong arms grabbed him, hustling him up the steep wooden steps. The pain in his chest exacerbated by every jostle. It took over his body and sapped his strength. The iron tang of his blood filled the air. He felt the warm wet slickness soaking his chest, his arm, dripping from fingertips, thanked his fortunes it was his left shoulder and not the right. He gritted his teeth and clung to consciousness as they laid him carefully on the familiar old leather of Doc's table. He opened his eyes, searching. Finding only Doc, he struggled to speak, "Where is she?"

"Now just lay back, Matt, you're losing a lot of blood," was Doc's distracted response. "I've got to get that bullet out."

He felt Doc cutting his shirt. He tried again, pulling himself up from the leather, more forcefully, "Where's Kitty?" He felt driven to see her before he surrendered to the darkness from which there might be no release. "Please, Doc, I need to see her."

He felt Doc gently pushing him down, exhorting him to be still, then turning away. He heard the door open and Doc shout, "Burke, see if you can get Kitty up here. I'm going to need her help." Then he turned back to Matt. "Try to relax, son. I need to get ready. You did your job; now let me do mine."

Matt lay back, setting his jaw, battling the pain. It was excruciating, surely the worst he had ever felt. But some corner of his brain acknowledged every time he had been shot, the pain was surely the worst. He breathed shallowly, carefully, owning the pain. He and pain were old friends and he knew the trick was to own it and use it and not let it win. Just a few more minutes and Kitty would come. His thinking was muddled, but he had a terrible feeling that things weren't right. He needed to see her.

At last he heard the rattle of the opening door and the rustle of fabric as she came to his side. He listened as Doc's query of, "What took you so…" trailed off.

He smelled his favorite perfume, heard the familiar, "Oh, Matt," and turned to meet her eyes. She wiped his brow, cupped his cheek, her fingers cool and comforting.

He grasped her arm in his bloodied hand and pulled her closer, sought to capture her eyes.

Her eyes looked past him, avoiding his gaze. What was she hiding?

He struggled to speak, "Kitty, are you sure you're ok? He continued insistently although his voice was weak and thready, "There was something… the way Mannon looked at you. What happened?"

She smiled gently at him. "Hush cowboy, everything's just fine. I was just scared to see you standing out on Front Street, calling out a gunman who, according to Festus, was faster than a snake's tongue, greased and tied to a bolt of lightning."

She deftly slipped from his grasp, moved to his head. The smell of ether assaulted his senses and Doc told him to start counting. Then the world and the pain slowly dissolved, and darkness descended. The last thing he heard was Doc saying, "Kitty, you're an amazing woman - first that charade with Mannon and now this. You saved him, you know."

At Doc's words, Matt's eyes popped open and he tried to rise. What the hell did Doc mean? Too late to ask. His world faded to black.

They told him later that the wound had been bad and the surgery extensive. There was a lot of damage, blood, fever. That bullet had hit his scapula according to Doc and bounced around. Lucky for him, Doc was 'a mighty fine physician.' He had heard that a time or two and had to admit, he owed Doc his life several times over. And that was about all he knew. They never gave him any details of his near death journeys and he was glad of it and never asked more.

When he finally came around, Kitty was at his side, her head near his arm, snoring softly. He stirred and she woke, scrambled quickly to her feet. She still wore the bright yellow blouse, a cheerful choice for what might have been his burying day and clear evidence she'd never left his side through whatever had transpired while he had slept. On a visceral level he wanted her there, but his rational mind despised himself for putting her through sleepless nights, pain and worry.

"Water," he croaked.

She hurried to comply.

He rasped, "How long?"

"Three days, but for the last 24 hours, you've been in and out, she replied," as she returned to his side. "How are you feeling? Doc left some laudanum, in case you woke up and needed it."

He consciously inventoried his body. "I'm OK, Kitty, and I hate that stuff. "

She could tell by the rigid way he held himself and the tightening of his eyes that he wasn't being entirely truthful. "Have it your way," was all that she offered.

He grimaced at the gory print of his hand still staining her sleeve as she helped him take a few sips of water. "I'm sorry, I guess I ruined your blouse. I was a little out of my head." Then his eyes tracked up to her face. Exhaustion was plain in her eyes, but more than that, he saw bruises and a jagged cut over her brow. Her face paint near gone - the damage was plain.

She saw the sudden change in his demeanor, the sudden intake of his breath, his eyes moving from her brow, to her cheek, to her neck, and then seeking her eyes. She realized he was seeing the damage her face paint no longer obscured. She damned her mistake, knew she wasn't ready for this, but he was insistent.

"What happened? Who did this to you? Was it Mannon? Why?" The questions came from his gut like bullets and he wondered, how had he missed this that night?

She cast through her mind for a convincing lie. She planned to tell him everything, but not yet, not here, not now. Everything was too raw; she wasn't ready. It needed to be later, somewhere private. A partial truth might work. "I tried to buy him off, Matt. I offered to sell the Long Branch and give him the money to leave town… leave town…before he killed someone." She had almost said, leave town before Matt came back. She quickly finished, "He didn't take the offer very well."

She watched as Matt's countenance hardened. And she was still hiding the worst of it. She knew the truth would hurt - one more burden for him to carry, one more crime against her person for which he would take responsibility. She wanted to spare him, spare herself, but knew she would have to tell him eventually. A truth like that, kept from him, was a lie that would fester. But not now, not when he was just back from the shadows of death. She loved this man of hers, but wished he could accept that everything bad that happened, especially to her, but for that matter, anywhere in the state of Kansas and its surrounding territories, was not his damn fault.

His plaintive voice snapped her from her reverie, "Kitty, why would you do that? You worked your whole life for the Long Branch. It's your home, your security, your future."

She gave him a sardonic smile, "Yeah, I know that, Matt, but you weren't here, and Mannon wasn't like any man I ever met." She thought to herself, and I was afraid that he was the one who would kill you. Her gaze was intense, pleading with him to understand that it had been important. "I had to do something, Matt. I just had to."

Matt was undeterred, too upset to see the need in her eyes, "Kitty, I don't care what you thought about Mannon; it was my job. This town is my responsibility and I can take care of myself. And when, if, the day comes that I can't, I need to know that you have the security the Long Branch provides. " He loved this woman so much. Why couldn't she understand that her safety was far more important to him than even his life? He had long since made peace with death, but not with losing her. Without her, he would be a shell, a hollowed out vessel, a man without emotion, or love, or fear. This was the front he showed the world, but it wasn't the man Kitty knew, the man she helped him be, a man who had the love of a good woman. A man who applied his stubborn streak not only to his job, but also to making sure he made it home…to her.

Kitty took a deep breath, paused, looking him up and down before sarcastically retorting, "Sure, Matt, you can take real good care of yourself." She wanted to tell him compared to his life, the Long Branch meant nothing to her, but, despite her fury, she managed to hold her tongue. She wasn't yet ready to tell him that she had done it for him.

Her sarcastic response pulled him from his maudlin reflections. He took a really deep breath, trying to rein in his emotions. He loved her, but she was hiding something from him. Pain, anger, and worry combined to keep him from thinking clearly and pushed him to say more than he should, "There's more, isn't there, Kitty? You're hiding something from me. I saw you and Mannon out on Front Street. I'm planning to kill em and he's playing some staring game with you."

He stopped abruptly, didn't add that he had needed her, and she had gone to Mannon. He knew that was petulant and self-centered. He didn't know what he was thinking, knew he was confused. He wasn't jealous of Mannon. He didn't think Kitty somehow cared for the gunman, but there was something between her and that killer and Kitty was keeping it from him. He wasn't proud of himself that he couldn't seem to just trust Kitty to tell him in her own time.

He sighed; a man couldn't control what he thought. But for dang sure, he should be able to control his words and actions. Too late for that now. He had carelessly thrown those words out there - 'you're hiding something from me …you and Mannon … some staring game with you….'

Matt prided himself on being the man he aspired to be, the man his long-gone father wanted him to be. He often fell short, but even when he failed to be that man, he tried to act like that man. He didn't seem to be doing a very good job of being, or even acting like that man right now. Maybe this conversation really should wait till he was feeling better, he belatedly thought. Usually I'm smart enough to just keep my mouth shut.

Kitty stared at him, hurt visible in her eyes. She was raw with the pain and terror of recent events; all she could think was that he didn't trust her. Did he think she invited Mannon into their bed? Finally, not to be baited, Kitty deftly deflected his question. "Matt, there are a lot of things about Mannon you need to know and I plan to tell you all of them, but right now, I am going to go over to the Long Branch and get out of this filthy…" she paused, shivered involuntary at the bloody hand print … "blouse and then to Delmonico's and get you some dinner."

He reached for her, needing the comfort, wanting to offer her comfort, but she kept her distance, ignored him and continued, "I know you haven't had anything to eat for at least three days, maybe longer. I'll get something for Doc and me as well. He should be back any minute." And with that, she gave him a tight smile, and avoiding his reach, headed out the door.

Matt consciously relaxed the tension that he realized had crept into his body. He berated himself for his stupidity. Mannon had hit her and choked her and instead of comfort, Matt had demanded explanations. He had behaved like an ass, but he was afraid for her, wanted to comfort, but all he managed to do was hurt her. She was hurt and she was angry…with him. He started to reach for the water glass on the nearby table, but changed his mind when what felt like a lightning bolt slashed down from his shoulder to the tips of his fingers. He resolved to lie still.

His mind cast back over his arrival in town, the gunfight, the worrisome connection he saw between Mannon and Kitty, the pain, Kitty telling him she was fine. He remembered looking for evidence that there was something wrong and there had been none. Gradually the fog lifted and he was remembering more details. There was Doc's unfinished query when she first came in the door. He had registered it, but not understood it that night. His thinking at that point hadn't been very clear, but now he realized, Doc was going to ask her what took her so long, but then he didn't finish his question because he knew the answer. Even more puzzling were Doc's comments just as he was drifting off. He was sure he hadn't dreamed them or imagined them. The rattle of the door opening interrupted his thoughts. Doc was back.

To be continued-


	2. Chapter 2

**Recovering from Evil**

Learning about Evil

Chapter 2

"Well, hello there, Matt," the visibly pleased physician greeted. "Glad to see you finally rejoined the land of the living. You definitely had us worried there for a while, but, thanks to your very fine physician and dedicated nurse, I think you're going to be just fine. " Adams paused, looked around the room. "Say, where is Kitty? Did she finally agree to get some rest, get cleaned up?" Matt noticed Doc kind of trailed off as he saw the look on his face. "Uh, Matt, something bothering you?"

Matt conjured up a smile and, trying to be ingratiating, replied, "By golly, there is, Doc, and I think you might be just the man to help me out."

A suspicious doctor warily responded, "Ok, so what's bothering you, and how can I help?"

Involuntarily, Matt's smile disappeared and his eyes hardened, "I want to know what Kitty is keeping from me. I want to know about those bruises and that nasty gash. I want to know the whole story and I think you know most of it, maybe all of it."

Doc sighed. Barely awake after nearly dying, spending two days unconscious, another day incoherent, and now, Matt was back. Doc momentarily thought maybe he liked him better unconscious. He skewered the Marshal with his eyes and acerbically retorted, "Well now, Mr. Marshal, if you think Kitty is keeping something from you, I suggest you ask her. And if she doesn't want to tell you, well... that's her business."

Matt dropped all pretenses. Doc was on to him, but he desperately wanted more information. So he decided to share the bits and pieces he already had in hopes of coercing more from his friend and, yes, he had to admit, near father figure. "C'mon Doc, I remember what you said to her when I was going under. Something about a charade. And the last thing was, 'you saved him, you know.' Who did she save Doc, was it me? And how did she save me? What did she do? I have to know." Is that how she got hurt? A lot about that night just didn't make sense to him, especially the connection he saw between Kitty and Mannon, and Matt was pretty certain, either Doc or Kitty could clear it up for him and he desperately needed to know. The lawman tried to keep his feelings from showing, tried to school his features into the mask he used to cover his emotions, to keep his enemies, and yes, his friends too, from knowing what was going on in the inside.

But Doc had known Matt a long time and, with the exception of Kitty, probably understood him better than anyone. There were some things that, being a man, he understood about him even better than Kitty. This was one of those things. He had a very good idea of what was going on in Matt's mind right now. He ached over what had happened to Kitty and he knew Matt's pain would be worse, that it would be one more failure that Matt would add to the heavy burden of failures he already carried. And he knew how Matt tended to react to this type of emotional pain, and it wasn't the reaction that Kitty was going to need. But this was Kitty's story to tell and truth was, he had no idea how to tell Matt, even if he thought he should which he most definitely did not. He settled for trying to calm the man down, reminding him of who Kitty was. He placed a comforting hand on the lawman's uninjured arm. "Whoa there, son, I know you're a little upset right now, but you need to settle down. If Kitty has any secrets, she'll share them when she's ready. You know that. She loves you; don't ever doubt that."

Matt met Doc's gaze, tried to make him see how important this was, "I know that, Doc, but I don't like it when something happens to her, especially when it's because of me. You know, I can take care of myself. But, if I lost her… Well, I just can't lose her." He didn't add that he already sensed that he was losing her, that something, maybe even his own behavior, was pushing her away from him. It hadn't escaped the astute lawman that she was keeping her distance, avoiding his touch.

Doc snorted. These two were some pair. Matt was a man and, more than that, he was a man with a deep-seated need to protect. That need was especially strong when it came to one Kitty Russell. The old physician wanted to shake him and remind him yet again that Kitty felt much the same. But, he knew that would be a waste of his breath, so he settled for sarcastically remarking, "Yeah, I know you don't like it and I know the sun hasn't risen on the day that Matt Dillon can't take care of himself. But Mannon came for you and I think this time...this time, maybe you just owe Kitty your life." As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he wished he could take them back, but it was too late. He'd given Matt one too many pieces of the puzzle he was trying to construct and Matt was very good at puzzles.

Matt could feel a lump settle in his stomach. Mannon hadn't just randomly shown up in Dodge, he had come for him and Kitty had put herself in danger, been hurt, for him. He pulled his uninjured arm free from Doc's comforting hand. The pieces were coming together and a truth he didn't want to face was becoming painfully impossible to ignore. "Tell me the rest, Doc," he demanded. "I have a right to know."

Doc stepped back and hardened his gaze, "No Matt… No, you don't have a right to know. I am going to tell you some of it, not because you have a right to know, but because you've already figured out a lot of it, and I want to make sure there are a few things you do understand. The rest of it, well, Matt, the rest of it is Kitty's story to tell." Doc watched as Matt dropped his eyes and visibly deflated.

"You're right, Doc. I… I don't have any rights at all. I hear people call her MY woman, but she's not. She could never belong to anyone, but Doc, it tears me up when she risks herself—especially when she risks herself for me. And I just don't know what to do about it because she's just so damn, …so damn," Matt reached for the word that would describe Kitty's fearless, or to his mind stubborn, reckless, insistence on taking unnecessary risks and pretty much never following his requests, but ultimately he couldn't find a word that quite matched his thoughts, finally settling on the inadequate, "so damn… independent." Matt paused, drew a deep breath, his expression a strange mixture of the love, pride and exasperation he felt for this woman. He figured Doc already knew all this, but he didn't think he'd ever said it right out loud like that. Sure, he'd thought it a million times, but saying it was just not like him. He should just stop talking.

Doc shook his head, scrubbed his mustache, all small "tells" that he just didn't know exactly what to say next. He was well aware of Matt's frustration with Kitty's independent streak, but he also knew it was part of the reason he was attracted to her. He just wished there was some way to help Matt deal with Kitty's choices and what had happened in Dodge while he had been away. But, while he loved Matt like a son, there were just some tragedies in life that a man had to bear alone. Sure, sharing the load might help, but mostly he knew - Matt would carry this pain alone. He stepped forward, again placing his hand back on Matt's arm for comfort. "Ok, son, let me tell you some of what transpired here in Dodge."

"First off, Kitty didn't get up to my office right away the night you were shot because she went back in the Long Branch to cover up the bruises and gash before she faced you. Though exactly why you think she has to be there to hold your hand after you get yourself, shot, knifed, beat up, whatever, I just don't know."

Matt hung his head, Doc was right again. He most always was. Matt knew very well that he was stubborn, selfish, and self-centered. He spent a lot of his life's energy trying to force the world to conform to his expectations. He raised his head, again seeking Doc's attention. "I know all that, Doc, I really do, but go on, please; tell me the rest."

"Well, the face paint was mighty heavy and I saw right away what she'd done, but you weren't as observant right then as you might have been and well… Well, she fooled you pretty easily. As for Mannon, well he was something. Something like I've never seen before. He was fast. We all knew he was faster than you. I guess you know that too, now, personal experience and all that."

He paused to see how Matt took that, but saw little more than a wince.

Adams continued his story, "And accurate…he could put a bullet exactly where he wanted. He bullied every man in this town. Took over the whole town, took what he wanted, paid for nothing." Doc paused, recollecting the gunslinger had paid for one thing, twenty cents to have his arm bandaged after Kitty had slashed it. "Newly might have told you some of it."

Matt nodded that he had, remembered Newly's anxious warning, 'Marshal, begging your pardon, he could kill you certain.'

Doc returned to his tale, almost lost in the surrealism of it. "He walked around singing all the time." He paused momentarily, shook his head at the memory, his lips pursed in disapproval, "Creepy. There were important parts of him missing. He wasn't a whole man. He had no conscience, no conscience at all. He was a cold-blooded killing machine. He nearly killed Festus for his mule if you can believe that, and if Kitty hadn't stopped it, why he would have killed Newly and Sam…for examples, he said. He took a real liking to Kitty. Plain as day told her he was here to kill you. Well, you can imagine she didn't like that at all. No, no, not at all."

Matt watched as Doc was lost in his reverie, was careful to not twitch so much as a muscle. A part of him wanted to run from the room and pretend none of this had happened, but the better part of him knew he had to hear it. And for all the horror of it, he was so proud of Kitty. He wondered how a man could hate it so bad that she never listened to him, insisting on involving herself in risky, perilous, dangerous activities when she should be keeping herself safe… for him, he selfishly thought. And at that same time, he nearly burst with pride at her bravery, honor, and selflessness. They were all attributes he aspired to for himself and valued more than life. It was a conundrum he'd turned round in his head many a time. While these thoughts meandered through his brain, his attention never left Doc's tale.

Doc leaned in, nodded his head, and tightened his eyes, letting Matt know that this was something he was sure of. "I'll tell you, son, she hollowed him out. That's what she did. Somehow she got to his evil core and she hollowed him out. I don't know how she did it, but whatever she did, I saw the result. He spent the whole afternoon before you got into town drinking. I don't know how he could even stand up, the amount of whiskey he drank. And the real telling thing was, he stopped singing—no singing at all. After she got done with him, by the time you met him on the street, he was drunk and powerful distracted. And he still beat you." Doc knowingly wagged his finger at Matt. "Imagine what you might have faced if..." Doc stopped. He had already said more than he intended, way more.

Matt listened in stricken silence, some words echoing over and over through his brain - no conscience, a real liking to Kitty, she hollowed him out, after she got done with him, imagine what you might have faced. There were still some missing pieces, but he was a smart man and even a stupid man could probably figure out most of the missing pieces. He also saw now why Mannon had missed. He was so obsessed with Kitty, he'd barely been able to drag his eyes away from her for long enough to shoot him. Mannon, drunk on his feet, and still so fast that Matt wasn't even able to get his hand to his gun. But somehow, Mannon still failed to deliver a killing shot. And then he hadn't bothered to check to see if the lawman was dead, had gone instead to Kitty. And now Matt knew why.

Matt's jaw tightened and he clenched his fists causing pain to course through his injured arm and chest. He welcomed the pain, deserved it. Rage and pain mixed and coursed through him, a powerful and dangerous combination. Kitty had suffered to save him. But then, as suddenly as it appeared, he tamped it down, controlled it. A man like him needed control and he exerted it now. He recognized that his anger would do Kitty no good, and he feared, had already caused damage. Patience was not one of his virtues, but he would wait until she was ready to tell him…everything. Surely, she would. Problem was there was no way in hell he was going to learn anything from her as long as he was stuck up here with Doc. Damn, he should have shot Mannon's nuts off and let him bleed out in the street.

Doc watched carefully to see how Matt would react, chastised himself for talking too much. He saw rage fleetingly pass over Matt's countenance, but now he seemed strangely subdued. Doc worried about what was going on underneath that calm.

"Say Doc," Matt called out, breaking the extended silence. "I have to get out of this bed, I've got things to do."

Incredulous, Doc pinned him with his gaze, "Are you crazy, Matt, you were just shot. Could have died three days ago and you want to leave? Well, I'll tell you right now, you're not well enough to leave. Not yet, not by a long shot, no sirree, not by a long shot. What is it you've got to do that's so all fired important?" Doc raised his eyebrows, a silent query before continuing, "Did somebody rob a bank or something and you need to get out there chasing after em?"

Now just hold on there, Doc," Matt interrupted and effectively stopped Doc's tirade. "I just want to go over to the office and take care of a few things."

Doc spluttered, "Take care of a few things? Are you trying to kill yourself, Matt? If it wasn't for the exceptional skill of your very fine personal physician, you would be dead, and if you insist on trying to get up and go wandering around town, you could still be dead." By golly, being Matt's friend was just more stress that it was worth. What the heck had just happened and at what point did he completely lose his understanding of Matt's mental state. One minute he was pining and self-flagellating and the next, he wants to get up and leave.

Matt took a deep breath. Doc clearly didn't understand just how badly he needed to get out of here. "Look Doc, you know I appreciate your very fine doctoring skills, but I need to go. He pursed his lips, giving his damaged shoulder a disgusted look. "Can't you just put a sling on this or something?"

Doc, finally recovered from the initial shock, was realizing he was back on familiar ground. He'd had this conversation with Matt many times. He scrubbed at his face and pulled his lips together to keep from snorting, although he couldn't quite keep the twinkle from his eye as he relaxed into the comfortable banter. "Well Matt, I'm advising you to stay right there on that bed. You try to get up and you're going to be in a lot of pain, I'm telling you." He paused to deliver a half-wink/half one-eyed squint before continuing, "Yes sir, a lot of pain, just an awful lot of pain."

Matt raised his eyebrow. The challenge had been given and accepted and a challenge was not something the lawman could ignore. He sat up very carefully, bracing his injured arm. So far, not too bad.

For his part, Doc started to worry the stubborn lawman might actually make it to his feet.

Then the door swung open, startling him and causing him to jerk his injured arm. White-hot pain flashed through his arm, his hand, his head, his toes. He moaned, set his jaw to keep from screaming, and fell back on the pillow, hyperventilating and attempting to push the pain away.

"Matt," shouted Kitty, noting, his paleness and the sheen of sweat that covered his face, "What the hell are you trying to do. Kill yourself?"

Matt offered no response as the pain continued in waves across over his body. A pain made worse when Kitty offered no comfort.

She set the large steaming tray she was carrying down and then turned her attention to Doc, looking for an explanation.

A smug smile in place, Doc responded to the unspoken query, "Well Kitty, he was just testing one of my hypotheses. Couldn't just take my word for it. Had to do a little experiment."

A visibly upset Kitty pierced Doc with her most disapproving look, "Oh Doc, how could you let him try to get up?

"Me? Don't you give me that look. He's the culprit. Stubborn. I think maybe he was going out after some bank robbers or something."

Kitty inhaled deeply thinking that maybe men just weren't worth the effort…on some days anyway.

Matt, still barely able to speak, but seeing that Kitty looked to be close to going on a tirade and attempting to head off catastrophe, finally managed to gasp, "It's ok, Kitty. Won't try that again, promise."

"I'm gonna hold you to that promise," she stated rather tersely as she busied herself removing the red-checkered cloth from the food and getting it all arranged. "Now how about we all just enjoy this nice dinner?"

With the pain slowly diminishing, Matt brightened a little at the thought of food. It had been a long time since he ate. "That sounds good, Kitty. I tell you, I'm starving."

Kitty smiled at him as she uncovered her offering, "Well, let's see antelope stew and hot biscuits for me, a steak, fried potatoes, and apple pie for Doc, and chicken broth for Matt."

Matt didn't even rise to the bait. He was whipped and he knew it. "Thanks, Kitty, that was real thoughtful of you."

The three friends concentrated on eating the dinner Kitty had brought in relative peace. With the pain nearly gone and dinner over, if you could call chicken broth dinner, Matt began a careful, but he hoped, surreptitious inspection of Kitty. The first thing he noticed was that there wasn't a sparkle in sight, not even in her eyes. No jewelry, not even the broach he had given her. She was wearing a dull brown skirt and a beige high-necked blouse that literally cupped her head, totally hiding the bruises on her neck. No lipstick, but enough face-paint had been artfully applied to hide her bruised cheek and minimize the gash. This was not the Kitty he knew; his Kitty was brash and flashy. She glittered and shined. He wanted her back.

As Kitty put the dishes back on the tray to go back to Delmonico's she couldn't help but notice that Doc seemed a little nervous and she caught Matt on several occasions staring at her, almost through her when he didn't think she was looking. At least he seemed to be done interrogating her, but even that was a little worrisome to her. Matt was like a dog with a bone when he wanted information. His sudden dropping of the topic of her and Mannon was definitely suspicious.

For his part, Matt ached for her touch.

Matt spent three more days under Doc's careful watch, but learned nothing more of the events that occurred before he got back to Dodge except that Mannon had ostentatiously cheated the citizens of Dodge out of their money, that Burke and the townsfolk had tried to bribe him, and that, in addition to drinking during that last afternoon, Mannon had entertained himself shooting glasses out of the sky. None of this was particularly elucidating to Matt, nor surprising. The question of what transpired between Kitty and that killer was like a big smelly buffalo sitting in the room and everyone pretending it wasn't there. Kitty had visited him regularly, been cheerful and solicitous of his care. But she rarely touched him and when she did her touches were professional and impersonal. When he reached for her she found reasons to be somewhere else, found something else that needed done, or just seemed to be unaware of his need. She talked to him, but told him nothing; and he asked nothing, fearful that after that first day of interrogation, he would just make things worse. With each passing day, his worry grew. It felt like he was losing her. It felt like she didn't want him.

Finally his emancipation was at hand. Doc had immobilized his arm with a sling and he had promised to limit his activities to a few hours at the Marshal's office catching up on his responsibilities as a lawman and then back to bed, his own bed this time. Of course he knew Doc knew where that was, but by mutual consent, neither mentioned it. He only hoped that he was still welcome in that bed.

As he carefully made his way down the stairs to Front Street, his mind was a jumble of conflicting emotions. The cowardly part of him wanted to sweep Mannon and what had happened to Kitty under a rug, ask no questions, hear no lies. But the better part of him knew he needed to hear the truth from Kitty and that Kitty needed to share it with him. He already felt that Mannon had somehow built a wall between them. He feared his own behavior had contributed to that wall. Tonight, he hoped Kitty would tell him what had happened. He hoped that once the truth was shared, the wall between them could be breached. He had reviewed the facts he had and fit in the missing pieces. He had gone over it again and again and tried to prepare himself to be the man she would need. But he still feared he might break apart when Kitty confirmed what his mind already knew, but fought to accept.

The few hours Doc had allotted him to spend working on Marshal business down at the jail dragged by with painful slowness. Usually he would be busy finishing reports, catching up with the mail, cleaning guns, reviewing circulars, and the day would rush by. But today, the minutes dragged as he stared at the clock. He did take time to wash and shave as best he could, sure that Kitty would prefer him clean. Finally, he felt, he had waited long enough. He buckled on his gun—remarkably difficult with only one arm, plopped his hat on his head and headed for the Long Branch.

To be continued-


	3. Chapter 3

**Recovering from Evil**

Exorcism of Evil

Chapter 3

As was his wont, he paused at the bat-wing doors, his height giving him clear view of the entire saloon. His eyes cast about until they alighted on Kitty. He paused longer than usual, trying to assess her mood. Still no sparkles in her attire, but she had added some lipstick. She seemed sad as she entertained herself with a game of solitaire. He had a feeling she too had passed a painful and drawn-out afternoon. It was still quiet as the evening was young. He stepped through the doors into the relatively cool interior, tipped his hat to Sue Ellen, and said hello to Sam, before stopping next to Kitty's chair. She invited him to sit.

He tapped the brim of his hat, said, "Thanks, Kitty." Then slowly lowered himself into an adjacent chair, careful of his arm, and careful to sit with his good arm closest to Kitty. As always, he could almost feel the electricity of her nearness. Now that he was close, he could see the gash above her eye was healing. The bruises difficult to assess as she had again chosen a high necked blouse and was very adept at hiding things with her paint—whether it was her cute little freckles or nasty bruises. She seemed forlorn and he wanted to hold her, offer comfort, but this wasn't the place, and he wasn't at all sure she would welcome his touch. Instead he commented, "I couldn't help notice you've overlooked a few moves." He then leaned closer and, with his good arm, moved the three of spades and two of hearts up to the top and shifted the five of clubs to cover the six of diamonds. He then flipped over the three newly exposed cards revealing the queen of hearts followed by the jack of spades, and king of clubs.

Battling an inexplicable, but nearly overwhelming urge to shift her chair away from his looming presence, Kitty finally reached out, halted his hand, "that's enough. I know. I've been a little distracted."

He sighed, pushed back his hat and leaned back in his chair, "And so have I, Kitty, so have I."

"Want to tell me about it, Matt?"

He raised his eyebrow, gave her a sardonic look, "I thought maybe you might tell me about it."

She chuckled and smiled, a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. A most unusual thing for her, he couldn't help but notice.

She pulled on the strength that was at her core, determined to see this thing through, "C'mon cowboy, let's go upstairs and have a drink.

Matt heaved his considerable bulk out of the chair, careful to not jostle his injured arm. He followed Kitty up the stairs and into her private rooms. His insides felt like jelly. He was more nervous than he'd been when he faced Mannon. Of course this time, he had more to lose. Mannon could only have taken his life. But if he couldn't fix this thing between Kitty and him, he would again walk alone and he feared what he might become. His mind unwillingly flashed back to his early days as marshal. He had been called a gunman, a butcher. The line between him and those things was narrow.

He entered the familiar rooms, usually a place he considered a safe haven, but not so much tonight. He pulled his hat off, balanced it on the peg that was just for him. He struggled to get his gun belt off with his one functioning arm. This was something Kitty would usually have helped him with, but tonight she was keeping her distance. Finally free of the heavy weapon, he hung it on the second peg and settled himself in the big chair she had bought just for him and waited. Kitty poured them both a brandy. She moved her vanity chair over near him and seated herself, still out of his reach, and they sipped their brandy in silence.

Kitty watched him closely, not meeting his gaze, seemed to be assessing him... Her posture was stiff. He could tell she was nervous, but there was more than that. She almost seemed to be challenging him, daring him in some way. Finally she broke the silence, "Matt, what exactly do you want to know? I know you've had things on your mind and I'm ready to answer your questions."

Matt's eyes jumped from the pattern on the rug that he had been so carefully studying to Kitty's face. So, he thought, it was going to be direct. It was his move and he needed to tread very carefully. He would not be rushed into saying the wrong thing. At least he hoped he wouldn't say the wrong thing, but this was not going exactly as he had expected. And women, even Kitty, maybe especially Kitty, were confounding to him. He anticipated passive listening and she had cast him in the role of interrogator. Interrogator was a role he was very familiar with, but not with her, not about this, not again.

He swirled the dark liquid in his glass, stalling for time. "Kitty, you don't have to tell me anything. I was just worried, I didn't mean…"

"C'mon Matt, I know you've got questions, so just go ahead and ask em. I'm as ready as I ever will be."

"Sure Kitty, if that's what you want."

"Yeah, Matt, that's what I want."

"Ok," he swallowed, feeling like a rat in a trap of his own making with no way out. He was a man of action, not words. He wanted to show her he was sorry, that he was still worthy of her, but she had defined the rules and one of them was apparently no touching. Finally he plunged into the conversation. "So, Kitty, I know a lot about what happened in Dodge. The things Mannon did, what he was like, but…" He paused, swallowed, took another sip of his brandy for courage and continued, "but I don't know what happened between you and Mannon. He desperately wanted the answer to be nothing, but recognized the odds on that were low to non-existent. He was also near certain that she would never have given herself to that killer voluntarily, but buried deep in his soul was the barely acknowledged fear that she might have...to save him. He pulled himself back to the conversation, "I just don't want it between us. I feel like whatever happened changed how you feel about me. I just want you..."

"Whoa there Matt, slow down. Let me tell you right now, my feelings haven't changed. I love you and I will always love you. Even if you had died out there, in the dirt, on Front Street, I would still love you till the day I died." She smiled at him, a smile that almost reached her eyes this time. "Why would you ever think I didn't still love you? Didn't I spend every waking moment worrying over you and caring for you after you were shot? Didn't I bring you chicken broth when you woke up?

Matt could almost smile about the chicken broth and as glad as he was to be reassured that she still loved him, she hadn't said she still wanted him. He was pretty sure he never doubted her love, but loving him and wanting him weren't quite the same. He also wasn't at all happy about how this was going. Somehow he had messed this up. She probably didn't care what he wanted.

He sighed and, with no other option, continued, "Yeah Kitty, I know you were there with me. I think, even when I was unconscious, I somehow knew, but there was something just not right between us, a distance." He thought about how much he missed her affectionate touches, her hugs, the secret smiles meant just for him, and how much he feared that she just didn't want him anymore. "This thing that happened between you and Mannon, is it somehow coming between us?" He silently berated himself. 'This thing that happened between you and Mannon,' was not exactly what he meant to say. He plunged on, "Doc told me some things. He didn't mean to, but I'm pretty good at getting information out of people. I think I know pretty much all of it. Maybe you don't want to be around me…anymore."

Kitty took a deep breath, trying to comprehend what was going on in his mind. Why did he think she didn't want to be around him? One thing she was certain of was that there needed to be truth and honesty between them. And surely he knew that. Surely he knew that she would tell him everything, even those things that would cause pain to both of them. She isolated three questions from his uncharacteristic rambling, what happened with Mannon, was it coming between them, and why didn't she want him around. She took a deep breath; somehow the first seemed to be less of a minefield. It was also the one she had been preparing herself to answer since that night. She took a deep breath and steeled her heart, determined that she would not cry.

"Mannon raped me."

For a moment that was as much as she could get out. It was a cold fact, an ugly, short statement, but it encompassed so much pain, so much loss. She looked Matt straight in the face, waited to see how he would react. She saw him clench his fist and jaw; saw the bulge of his jaw muscle, the fire in his eyes, and then, acceptance. He said nothing, but somehow she knew that this was not news to him. But still, laying it out there between them had hurt him. Hurt her. She knew it would.

A long silence. Matt set his drink aside, stalled while he fought to bring his emotions under control, then leaned forward and reached towards her to pull her into his lap, but she shrugged him off. She wasn't ready for the comfort of his body.

Matt tried to speak, failed, still battling an overwhelming barrage of emotions. Until this moment, he had held onto a sliver of hope that this terrible thing had not happened to her. He turned the reprehensible word around in his mind. He tried to speak again, his voice breaking, "I know that, Kitty. I think I suspected that from the moment I saw the bruises, and after the things Doc told me, I was even more certain. I know that monster beat you and assaulted you and…" He paused, forcing the evil word out, "…and he raped you. And it was my fault. He was here for me." His eyes dropped; no wonder she didn't want him near her.

"Matt, you have it so wrong, and even if he did do it because of you, it still wouldn't be your fault."

His only response a noncommittal, "Umhmmm."

"Stop it, Matt, just stop it. Mannon did this to me, not you. You are only peripherally involved here." Kitty pushed on, "And it still wouldn't make me want you to leave." She stood, put her drink down, sidled away from him, gaining distance. "Don't make this about you. He raped me."

That word again. He hated it. He lurched to his feet. What kind of a man… Stalked across the room and slammed his fist into the wall. The thin wallboard collapsed inward. The pain was intense echoing from his good arm to the injured one. Clarifying, but unsatisfying. The man he wanted to get his hands on was…not available. He unclenched his fist, wiggled his fingers, gave the wall a disgusted look, then pivoted towards Kitty, intent on apologizing for the damage.

The apology died on his lips as Kitty shrunk back from him, her arm raised protectively. Matt stopped abruptly, his sheepish smile replaced with hurt as he realized with shocking clarity, Kitty was afraid of him. That's why she'd been so distant, avoided his touch. He stepped back, giving her space, dropped into the chair, the pain of his ill-treated, injured arm not even registering in the face of the overwhelming onslaught of emotions. The woman he loved, the woman who assured him of his humanity even when he himself doubted it, was afraid of him.

Kitty watched with anguish as she saw his expression pass from shock to hurt to desolation in response to her own involuntary response to his sudden advance towards her. She wanted to apologize, to comfort him, but before she could form a coherent response, he dragged himself back to his feet, stoic lawman's mask firmly in place.

"I'm sorry, Kitty. I'll go."

Kitty's mind fought to understand what had happened. She understood that Matt's burst of anger had only been a reaction to his feeling of helplessness. She was fully aware that helplessness was not something this lawman accepted with good grace. Matt was a huge, powerful man, with deadly skills she acknowledged. But she knew he would never harm her, would never take from her what she didn't want to give. Faced with his pain, she finally admitted to herself that she had been afraid of him, of his power, of his masculinity, of everything since that night; had walled him off, hurt him. And now, when he had come towards her so suddenly, she had momentarily flashed back to Mannon.

She stepped towards him, tentatively reached out a hand, resting it on his arm.

Matt stopped, slowly turned to face her, the pressure of her hand riveting him more securely than irons.

"Don't go. Matt. Mannon failed to take you from me with his gun and I am sure as hell not going to let him take you from me with nothing but a memory. He hurt me," she sadly admitted. "Took something from me that left me feeling exposed, vulnerable, afraid, but I refuse to let him win. I know I haven't been myself, but I didn't break that night and I won't break now."

Matt started to take a step towards her, halted as she continued.

But Matt, there's one more thing, it's weighing on my mind. It's too early to know, but I could be pregnant…with his child. I need to know, now. Is that something that you would let come between us; would it change how you feel about me? About us?"

Those last words cut him. "Hell no, Kitty, And, I don't want to go. No matter what, I want to be here, with you." He was a fool for not having thought of the possibility. He ached at the thought of what a difficult thing that would be for her. But, he knew without a doubt, he would stand with her, and, if it was what she wanted, raise the child as his own. He added, "If that happens, we'll face it together."

He reached out to her again and this time she allowed him to pull her into the comfort of his embrace. He lowered himself back in the big comfortable chair, pulling her into his lap, holding her securely. He nuzzled her hair, so glad to have her near. He could feel her tension at his embrace, but relief coursed through his body as he finally began to hope that he might bridge this terrible wall that had separated him from the woman that was such an important part of his life.

She inhaled his signature smell. The smell of a man, mixed with leather, gun oil, and soap, a smell that reminded her of open skies and riding across the wide-open prairie. And, she had to acknowledge, there was a less welcome hint of tincture of Iodine that she couldn't quite miss. Yes, this was her man. Mannon was nothing more than an animal, a rabid animal. She gradually relaxed in her man's strong, but gentle embrace. The ice that had encased her heart since that night, the ice that had allowed her to confront Mannon that second time, slowly melted. For the first time in days, she felt safe. And then, the tears began to gather in her eyes. She sniffled softly, buried her face in his shoulder.

"Kitty, you know you saved Sam and Newly. You saved me."

She wondered how much he knew. Doc could be quite a gossip. Finally, a muffled, "What do you mean, I saved you?"

"Doc told me; he told me you saved me. He didn't give me the details, but I know it's true."

Still muffled, Kitty acknowledged, "I did try to save you. I tried my best, but Mannon still shot you down." She shuddered at the image of Mannon's bullet striking him and of him lying in the dirt of Front Street. One of her nightmares, come to life.

"Kitty, you don't have to tell me, but I'd really like to know what you did to him that allowed me to be here tonight, holding you in my arms, well at least one of my arms," Matt corrected with a wry grin. "And in no time, it'll be both arms again."

She lifted her head from his shoulder, met his eyes, hers brimming with tears, his with pain. "I don't know if I helped, but I did everything I could think of to give you an edge. The next day… after, after what happened, I made Doc deliver a message to Mannon that I wanted to see him." She shivered slightly as she remembered the visceral revulsion she had felt when Mannon had come to her room. She again buried her face in Matt's shirt, this time wiping away her tears on the soft, well-worn material.

She felt Matt stiffen and lifted her head again to see what was wrong, "Kitty how could you take that chance? He might have…" He couldn't quite say the word, "He might have done it again. He might even have killed you. Kitty why do you take these chances?" Even worse, he thought, why do you take these chances for me? And, he decided, he definitely needed to have a talk with Doc about using a little more sense.

She offered him a quivering tear-stained smile, "I had to do it. And I understand men, a lot better than you understand women, and I didn't think I was in any danger. It wasn't easy. I never wanted to see his smarmy face again, but I had to. Matt, could you ever stand by and not do everything you could to save me?"

Matt recognized the question as rhetorical, so offered no answer, but somehow, it just seemed different when it was him taking risks. Risk taking was his job, not hers. He sighed, didn't much matter what he wanted. He could try to keep her safe, but she would do what she wanted… and he knew it.

Kitty watched his expression and had a pretty good idea what he was thinking. Yup, she reflected, she understood men, especially this man, a lot better than he understood women.

She picked up her story, intent on telling him everything, "He brought me flowers. Called me Red." She paused, gave a brittle, humorless chuckle. "He actually thought I invited him over to tell him I was choosing him over you," she recalled, incredulously. "He told me that was a good thing—me choosing him- cause he was staying. I told him, 'Yeah, you're stayin alright, cause it's here you're dying.' He told me you were dead. I told him you were a man and that he was dead and he'd believe it when he saw you. I told him that as sure as there was a sun and moon, you'd kill him. He told me, he'd never lost. And I told him, 'You did with me.' I needed him to believe me, to know that you were better than him."

Kitty's courage and faith in him left Matt near speechless. Finally, he choked out, "Kitty you think mighty high of me."

That earned a deep-throated laugh from Kitty. Matt looked down at her and grinned. He loved her laugh. She had sounded almost like herself again.

Then an expression of chagrin crossed her face and Kitty confessed, "I do think mighty high of you and all, but the truth is, I thought he was gonna kill ya, Matt."

He smiled back at her as the mood seemed to lighten. "Well I was a little worried about that myself. But I think your little, charade, I think Doc called it, made the difference. Doc said it best; you found his evil core and hollowed him out." The risks she had taken for him and the price she had paid would haunt him forever; he knew he didn't deserve her, couldn't believe his luck in having such a woman love him. He pulled her tight to his chest, kissed her forehead, her wounded brow, while running his fingers through her hair. "You saw how fast and accurate Mannon was, Kitty, but somehow, that night, his shot was off. He hurt me, but he didn't kill me. I can thank you for that. Newly told me, Mannon could 'kill me, certain.' Even Louie, wanted to back me up, cause he didn't think I had a chance. But you know, I still had to face him; I didn't have a choice."

Kitty shivered at his comment that Mannon's shot had hurt, but not killed. She looked into his familiar face, still handsome, filled with character, but now with deep lines etched by years on the prairie, the wind and the sun and the regrets he carried, but her favorite lines were signposts of his smile and infectious grin. She was surprised he shared his admission that he knew Mannon might kill him, but not that he felt he had no choice in taking Mannon on. Like she had said, she knew men, especially this one. She, and even Doc, had known that there was no way to stop that confrontation. She had never seen this man back down from a challenge. She satisfied herself with the comment, "Matt, I knew there was no way I could stop you from meeting Mannon out there on Front Street. If he had a Gatling gun and ten hired gunmen with him, you still would have still taken him on. I am not sure I understand it, but, I know how you think."

"This badge makes a lot of decisions for me."

Kitty pulled back a little farther, tentatively reached out to gently finger the burnished metal on his shirt. She had tried to make her peace with this competitor for Matt's attentions. She understood its importance and the rule of law it symbolized, but she just couldn't forgive it for the sacrifices it had demanded of this man who had sworn fealty to it.

Matt, sensing the direction of her thoughts and not wanting his badge and all it had cost them both coming between them, and still needing the feel of her body near his, pulled her back tight against his chest.

She buried herself in his comfort and scent, tears still welling in her eyes. She remembered how hopeless she had felt, beaten down, defeated and stuck waiting for what she knew was an inevitable confrontation. A confrontation she feared would take this man from her. Her mood darkened as her mind twisted backward to the horrors. "Oh Matt, he raped me and he shot you. A single shot and you were thrown back and landed in the dirt. You were so still. Mannon, thinking you dead threw my own words back in my face. 'Now there's a man, a good man.' I couldn't take my eyes off of you… So still..."

Matt thought back on that night, remembering how, while standing out on Front Street, Mannon's focus had been on Kitty not him. He remembered how Mannon had gone to Kitty while he himself lay in the dirt bleeding. Mannon had not even looked at him until he had called him the second time. "Look, Kitty, you're here with me and I am so glad of that. Because he was so obsessed with impressing you, destroying your spirit, and possessing you, he made a mistake. I got another chance, a second draw. We're together and we're alive, and Mannon's gone."

Kitty raised her tear-stained face to him, mascara and face-paint ruined, and Matt thought she had never looked more beautiful.

"Matt, you have to know, it wasn't because of you. Mannon came that first night he was in town. He broke the window in the front door and let himself in. He was crazy Matt, and he wanted to own me, wanted to dominate me, cut me down to size. Somehow he seemed to think, if he could kill you, I would be his and Dodge would be his. In his head, he was some kind of war hero, but he needed to kill you to get respect. He was brutal and evil, a heartless shell of a man. There was no humanity at all in him. I tried to buy him off, like I told you. I offered him $7000. He looked at me and said, '$7000 is a whole lot of money. You could buy almost anything in the world with that.' But he was toying with me, acting like he might take it. And then he said, 'Except Matt Dillon's life.' I tried to get the shotgun and kill him. He jerked it away, started hitting me and choking me. I cut him with a broken beer mug, but I couldn't fight him off. And then he left me, lying there in the broken glass and the whiskey…like… floor sweepings."

Humbled by her courage, the pain in his chest nearly choking him, Matt sat silent, holding her, feeling her shake in his arms. No matter what she said, this was his fault; he had failed her again. He wasn't good with words, struggled, finally offered, "Kitty, I am so sorry; I wish I could change things or somehow fix this, but," he sadly recognized, "I can't." He cuddled her against his chest, surrounding her in his one-armed embrace, wishing he could somehow keep her from harm. Then this man of action offered the only support he could. "All I can do is love you and do my best to protect you," silently acknowledging that he had never faltered in the first, but accepting that he often fell short in the second.

She snuggled deeper into his body, nestling against his chest as she listened to the comforting steady beat of his heart, reveled in feeling the gentle strength of his arm, and slowly slipped her slender arms around his broad chest.

He relaxed as he felt her arms wrap around him; somehow he felt he was finally home. "Kitty, promise me, you're going to be all right, that you still want me."

She looked up into his face and was shocked to see tears brimming in his eyes. She'd seen Matt Dillon in excruciating pain, seen him near death, seen him emotionally broken, but she'd never seen him cry. She knew then, if she had ever doubted it, he loved her with all his heart and soul.

Her voice catching in her throat, but meaning it with all her heart, she softly whispered. "I promise."

The End


End file.
